


Worse Things (I Could Do)

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grease, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Implied Mpreg, Implied Sexual Content, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Pregnancy Scares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then everything was frozen, completely quiet.</p><p>“It broke,” Derek uttered in bewilderment.</p><p>Stiles turned his head to look at Derek’s hands, his arms still holding him close. “How … how could it break?” He questioned as he leaned forward some. And sure enough, the wrapper and condom were torn in half.</p><p>Derek released a sad, dejected sigh, sinking further into the seat. A soft blush heated his cheeks as he stared down at the broken condom. “I bought it in the seventh grade,” he finally stated in embarrassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Things (I Could Do)

**Author's Note:**

> I made a few posts about my Sterek Faery AU involving Grease ([x](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/tagged/grease%21au)). And this ficlet is the lovely result of that. I can't get enough of the Rizzo/Kenickie story, and I wanted to kind of push it to go more in depth. There isn't a lot of focus on Thunder Road or the dance, but it's still rather lovely, if I do say so myself.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it! <3

"Stiles, you know if old lady Jameson finds out, she'll tell your father!" Lydia quickly hissed, leaping back when Stiles tumbled out of his closet, a pair of jeans and tight Henley precariously pulled on.

"Don't ruin this for me, Lyds," Stiles said as he jumped up and down to pull his converse on. “Besides, Mabel would never tell my father on me,” he stumbled to regain his balance. “And, she loves ‘that nice Hale boy’ anyways,” he used his best old Southern belle voice to impersonate Mabel. He quickly moved to the window, leaning out to see the T-Birds piling out of the car, Derek sitting in the driver's seat.

"What are you going to do, Stiles, shimmy down the drain pipe?" Jackson asked as he watched Stiles crawl out the window headfirst.

"Why doesn't he just sneak down the stairs?" Kira asked from her spot on the bed.

"Because he's a horny idiot," Lydia sighed, thankful she didn't hear a loud shriek followed by the sudden sound of Stiles’ impact on the pavement. She closed the window, making sure to ignore Jackson’s attempt to catch her eye.

Stiles stumbled to a stop beside Derek’s car, softly smiling when he caught Derek looking up at him. He moved to lean against the car door, just beside Derek’s arm. “Hey,” he uttered, immediately reprimanding himself before adding, “What’s up, Hale?”

Derek smiled as he tapped his fingers against the metal of the door next to Stiles’ hip. “One guess.”

A small smile pulled at Stiles’ lips, hoping his blush would be hidden in the moonlight. He barely noticed the others as he watched Derek drop his cigarette to the ground. He didn’t even realized that Scott had partially groaned before slumping out of the car and making his way down the street.

“So, are we going or what?” Isaac asked, not understanding the change of looks Derek and Stiles were giving each other.

“Hit the pavement,” Derek ordered as he opened the door for Stiles to get in the front seat.

Stiles smiled, brushing his arm up against Derek’s chest as he slid across the seat and into the passenger side.

“Seriously?” Erica demanded as Boyd jumped over the side, holding his hand out for her to take.

“Beat it!” Derek snapped, glaring at them.

Isaac huffed, climbing out as he started to head down the street to where Scott was headed. Erica moved over the side, allowing Boyd to lift her up and onto the ground.

“Have fun,” Erica called out as she exaggeratedly waved at the car as Derek pulled out of the driveway. “It’s about time,” she quietly added.

“Agreed,” Boyd sighed in agreement, wrapping his arm around Erica as they started off down the road.

~*~

Stiles moved his arm to gain a little leverage as Derek pressed his body over his. He released a faint moan when Derek sucked another hickey into his neck. His hands bunched under Derek’s jacket, fingers pulling at the taunt material of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feeling Derek’s skin against his.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned when Stiles shimmied his hips, wrapping his thighs around Derek’s waist as best as possible.

“Call me by my first name,” Stiles blurted out without thinking, his mind completely hazed over as he ground his hips against Derek’s.

Derek suddenly pulled back, his breathing heavy and delayed as he stared at Stiles. “Uh,” he paused, eyebrows drawing together in a pensive look before one slowly arched in question. “I thought your name was impossible to pronounce.”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak before realizing that there were better things for his mouth to be doing. “Yeah, forget I just said that,” he uttered before pulling Derek back in. He released another moan when he felt just how hard Derek was, his leg kicking against the seat as he tried to sit up and push into Derek more.

Derek shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the driver’s seat.

Stiles pulled at Derek’s shirt, his hands sliding up underneath the material to feel Derek’s skin. His fingertips ran through the dusting of hair growing over Derek’s abs. “Derek,” he gasped out, trying to gain his attention as Derek bit down on the bend of his neck. “Derek, do you have something?”

“Yeah,” Derek huffed out a laugh, pulling back from Stiles.

Stiles sat up some, shaking his head as he tried to get his wits about him. His eyes followed Derek’s movements, watching him pull his wallet out of his back pocket, producing a slender foil wrapper. His stomach leapt, thoughts of Derek purchasing the condom running through his mind. He was curious if Derek had bought it with someone particular in mind. “Insurance policy?” He lightly questioned, trying to sound lighthearted.

Derek released a light chuckle. “25 cents isn’t that big of an investment for an insurance policy.”

“Big spender,” Stiles playfully purred as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, gently nibbling on his earlobe. A liquid fire burned deep in his gut as he listened to the foil wrapper rip in Derek’s hands.

And then everything was frozen, completely quiet.

“It broke,” Derek uttered in bewilderment.

Stiles turned his head to look at Derek’s hands, his arms still holding him close. “How … how could it break?” He questioned as he leaned forward some. And sure enough, the wrapper and condom were torn in half.

Derek released a sad, dejected sigh, sinking further into the seat. A soft blush heated his cheeks as he stared down at the broken condom. “I bought it in the seventh grade,” he finally stated in embarrassment.

Derek remembered the way the guys all talked, even in middle school. He knew that he was inexperienced, and it showed whenever he would get silent when they talked about kissing or hooking up with other people. He liked to argue with himself that they were just kids, and shouldn’t have even known what half of the stuff they were talking about was.

It was a random Friday, when his mom forced him to go to one of Laura’s award ceremonies at the high school. He begrudgingly went, almost sulking that he had to sit in the bleachers next to his parents as he half watched his sister walk up to receive another award. He slipped away from them, offering the excuse of having to go to the bathroom. He was taking his time, offering himself a faint look in the mirror before using one of the urinals. He heard a group of guys talking, some of them snickering about potentially getting laid. He listened to them as he kept his head down, making sure to take extra time washing his hands as he caught sight of one of them getting something from the small vending box attached to the wall by the door.

Derek must have stood in front of the box for a solid minute, his eyes glued to the label by the 25-cent mark. It was the gender sign for male. He pursed his lip as he chewed down on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t understand it at the time, knowing that his so called friends would laugh at him for not understanding what the vending box held. He fished out a quarter from his pocket, slipping it into the slot and pressing the dispensing button.

It was a small plastic wrapper that fell into the dispensing tray. Derek picked it up, inspecting it before realizing that it was a condom. His cheeks heated up as a small knot of panic started to form in his chest, knowing that if he kept it, he’d have to hide it from his parents. He fumbled with his pocket, yanking out his wallet as quickly as possible to hide to condom among the various folds.

Derek remembered the way the others stared at him in awe when he showed off the fact that he had a condom in his wallet. It was stupid and childish, but it made Derek feel better for being inexperienced.

That small little wrapper made Derek the most popular guy in middle school, and started to build his reputation as the typical town bad boy. He could hear the gossiping, even when he started high school. It was an image that the stupid condom—still secured in his wallet—had purchased him. It was the first time Derek caught Stiles looking at him, and he didn’t mind the image it all perpetuated, not if it got him Stiles’ attention.

“Oh,” Stiles softly uttered. His disappointment at the condom breaking was suddenly being overtaken by his surprise. If that condom was the one that Derek had rumored to have gotten back in seventh grade, then it meant that Derek never used it—that Derek was just as virginal as Stiles. A small joy blossomed in his chest. “So, you’ve never …”

“No,” Derek weakly answered, realizing that the night was going from bad to worse. The whole image that Stiles seemed to like about him was suddenly crumbling away to the pathetic teenager he actually was.

Stiles pressed his hand against Derek’s chest, fingertips gently pulling at the neckline of Derek’s shirt. He leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Derek’s mouth, softly smiling when Derek looked at him with unsure eyes. He moved his hand to cup Derek’s cheek, his fingers running along Derek’s jawline as he appreciated the soft hairs of his beard caressing his skin. “I prefer it that way,” he stated against Derek’s lips.

Derek’s hands gripped Stiles’ hips, pulling him flush against his body as they started pulling at each other’s clothes once more. He opened his mouth to Stiles, both of them eagerly rutting against one another.

Neither one of them were paying attention when the broken wrapper fell to the floor of the car, completely forgotten.

~*~

Stiles was getting increasingly irritable. He was annoyed that everything was held together by loose terms. He was mostly annoyed with the way Derek would close off and choose not to talk about what was happening between them. They had continued to have sex—something Stiles wasn’t against but also was afraid to stop out of fear that Derek would lose interest in him. He told himself it was foolish, that Derek never acted or implied that he was only using him for sex. But he never talked about it with Derek, either.

He wanted to call them boyfriends—he was sure Derek saw it that way too. But they never talked about it. It was a curse in their relationship—neither one of them wanted to talk about the hard stuff. And Stiles hoped it was because Derek was as scared of losing him as he was of losing Derek.

They were all hanging out at Frosty’s Palace, the whole gang together and listening to Scott bumble through an excuse as to why he couldn’t meet Allison’s parents—mostly because he was terrified of Allison’s father, Chris Argent.

Derek’s arm was resting over Stiles’ shoulder as he observed the way Allison furrowed her eyebrows at Scott’s excuse. He shook his head, wondering when Scott was going to realize that there was more to dating than just hanging out with the person.

Stiles saw the look Jackson gave him, noticing that his eyes were staring at his throat. He leaned forward, slightly amused at the way Derek’s arm slipped some, Derek’s hand softly trailing Stiles’ shoulder blades. He rummaged through Lydia’s bag, looking for a mirror.

“Can I help you?” Lydia asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Mirror,” Stiles uttered as he withdrew his hand from Lydia’s purse, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You okay?” Derek asked, curious as to Stiles’ dismissive nature.

“A little cold,” Stiles weakly offered, keeping his eyes on Lydia as she searched for her mirror.

Derek wordlessly shrugged out of his jacket, easily placing it on Stiles’ shoulders. He pressed a chaste kiss just behind the shell of Stiles’ ear, not lingering long when he noticed how Stiles slightly tensed, his shoulders rigid in almost annoyance.

Stiles took the mirror from Lydia, leaning back in his chair. He lowered his body some, allowing Derek’s arm to fall from the back of his chair and onto his shoulders. He felt bad for almost pulling away from Derek’s kiss, trying to get over his annoyance that Scott was probably going to meet Allison’s parents before Derek met his dad. He ignored his jealousy, popping open Lydia’s mirror and seeing the reason Jackson had been staring at his throat—there were enough hickeys on his throat and neck to make him look like cheetah print.

“People are going to think I’m a leper,” Stiles sighed as he tilted his head back to examine his throat.

Derek’s thumb gently brushed along Stiles’ throat, just under his chin. He gently stroked along one of the hickeys decorating the side of Stiles’ neck, almost as if he was appreciating his handy work.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, easing Derek’s arm off. He clipped Lydia’s mirror back together, slipping it into her purse. “You do realize that my dad isn’t blind and he’ll see these, don’t you?”

“You have a lot of moles,” Derek replied.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. “I don’t have moles the size of your mouth.”

“I can get you a scarf from Isaac, if you want,” Derek countered, realizing after the fact how stupid that sounded. He couldn’t think straight when Stiles was around.

“Yeah, because wearing a scarf around is going to fool everyone,” Stiles remarked as he pulled Derek’s jacket tighter around his shoulders, slumping back in the chair.

“What’s with you lately?” Derek asked as he turned towards Stiles, his back blocking the others.

“So there has to be something wrong for me to be annoyed with you?” Stiles snipped back.

“So you’re annoyed with me?” Derek questioned, his wounded ego rearing its ugly head.

“Just a little bit, yeah,” Stiles remarked as he turned his head to look away from Derek.

“Then maybe you should go home,” Derek countered as he turned away from Stiles.

Something in Stiles’ snapped. He turned, purposefully knocking Kira’s soda over and into Derek’s lap. He didn’t even flinch when Derek quickly stood up, grabbing the falling glass before it could fall off the table. “Sorry, Kira,” he remarked as he stood up.

“Stiles,” Derek loudly growled, the side of his shirt and jeans soaked.

“Here,” Stiles angrily offered as he ripped Derek’s jacket from his shoulders before throwing it at him. “Clean it up with that.”

Lydia was the one that yanked Stiles to the side once they were out of Frosty’s Palace. “What the hell was that?” She demanded.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lydia,” Stiles snapped as he ripped his arm out of Lydia’s hold, continuing his march down the sidewalk. He heard Derek come outside, hearing Lydia stop him.

“Let him go,” Lydia instructed Derek. “He’s being childish—talk to him tomorrow.”

Stiles felt like laughing—if it wouldn’t make him sob uncontrollably. He flagged down one of his father’s deputies, overjoyed that it was Parrish.

Parrish didn’t ask Stiles unnecessary questions in hopes to get some information in order to impress the Sheriff. He actually cared about Stiles’ safety. He was younger than most deputies, realizing that adolescence had a funny way of getting people in trouble.

Stiles told Parrish it was nothing when he asked what happened to his neck.

“Your dad’s not blind, Stiles,” Parrish commented.

“I know,” Stiles sulked as he stared out the window.

“Is it the Hale kid?” Parrish asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

Stiles remained silent.

Parrish sighed. “I’m not going to lecture you, because you don’t need that from someone who is only five years older, but you should be careful. Your dad isn’t judgmental—for the most part,” he added, knowing that the Sheriff’s job made him somewhat partial to being judgmental against criminals. “But someone like Derek Hale doesn’t really have a future planned out that involves a family.”

“That’s stereotyping, Deputy,” Stiles countered. “Just because Derek wears a leather jacket and occasionally smokes when someone can see him do it, and has a fast car, does not mean he’s not a family man.”

“Fair enough,” Parrish replied. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Stiles answered as sat up, ready to climb out the door and run into the house. “But I can take care of myself,” he stated as he exited the vehicle. He slowly walked to his door as he watched Parrish drive off before weakly adding, “And anyone else that comes along.”

~*~

Stiles angrily huffed as he walked down the sidewalk, scuffing his shoes against the cement as he tried to get images of Derek dancing with Jennifer out of his head. It was stupid to think that going to the dance was a good idea, especially when Derek was with someone else. He didn’t understand why he thought that trying to make Derek jealous would even work.

“He’d have to actually care first,” Stiles jabbed at himself. He refused to cry when it started raining. He slipped out of his jacket, making a makeshift umbrella out of it as he held it above his head. He startled when a car beeped at him. He turned to look at the owner, realizing that it was Derek’s car.

“Get in,” Derek loudly stated through the rain as his car idled by the sidewalk.

“Go away,” Stiles snapped before Derek could even say anything else, continuing to walk.

“Stiles, get in the car,” Derek yelled as he moved the car forward.

“Shouldn’t you be drooling over Jennifer?” Stiles countered as he kept walking.

“Stiles,” Derek softly called. “Get in the car before you catch your death.”

Stiles turned to look at Derek. He angrily huffed, quickly moving towards the car. He easily slid into the passenger side thanks to Derek leaning over and throwing the door open. He kept silent as he draped his jacket over his knee, avoiding looking at Derek.

Derek didn’t say anything as he started driving, remembering where Stiles lived. He turned the heater on, turning the vents towards Stiles. He was the one to break the silence. “Where’s your date?”

“He got a bit handsy,” Stiles flatly answered.

“So you just ditched him,” Derek countered.

“Just like Jennifer ditched you,” Stiles snapped.

“Yeah, well Scott seemed more than happy to drop Allison for her,” Derek hollowly answered, not rising to Stiles’ challenge.

“That’s his idiotic mistake then, isn’t it,” Stiles remarked.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about Scott,” Derek started.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about you,” Stiles replied.

“Then let’s talk about you,” Derek tried.

Stiles snorted. “Nice try,” his eyes tracked the scenery passing by, knowing that his house was coming up.

“What’s going on with you lately?” Derek asked as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Me?” Stiles snapped as he turned to look at Derek. “Maybe I don’t like having pushy guys around me,” he hissed as the car rolled to a stop outside his house.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Derek demanded as he turned to car off before giving Stiles his undivided attention.

“You know exactly what it means,” Stiles answered.

“I never pushed you into anything,” Derek firmly stated. “You always said yes—you were always the one climbing in my lap, so don’t try to pull that bullshit.”

“I seem to remember someone being very into the fact that I was straddling his legs,” Stiles quickly retorted. “It’s not my fault you eagerly jumped me just as much as I did you.”

“You’re being unreasonable, Stiles,” Derek countered.

“Unreasonable,” Stiles echoed, scoffing slightly. “Unreasonable would be going to hook up with someone without anything handy.”

“You’re digging at me for _that_?” Derek demanded. He cursed under his breath, smacking he palm of his hand against the wheel. “I never told you that we had to do anything that night,” he softly commented. “Is that what this is all about?” He weakly questioned as he looked at Stiles.

“I should go before my dad comes out,” was all Stiles replied with as he opened the car door. He slipped out of his seat, hurrying towards his house, ignoring Derek calling his name. He slammed his body against the closed door, waiting for the sound of Derek’s car driving off. He slowly slid down against the wood, resting his head against his knees as he hugged his legs to his chest. He started crying—harsh, wet sobs cracking through his chest.

Stiles knew that he should have just told Derek then and there, knowing that no matter what, Derek was going to hate him more for it. He was going to blame him, like every guy blamed every carrier. He didn’t think it was going to happen—he thought he had told Derek that he was a carrier. It was just one night—one stupid night, as every other time they used a condom. He thought it was easier to have Derek hate him for other reasons than to think that he was tricking him into staying together just for the sake of a child.

~*~

Stiles was irritated, still recalling the conversation he had with his dad the other night. He had lied to his dad when he came downstairs to find his son crying against the front door. He tried to shrug off the reason Derek had been the one to drop him off. He knew his dad didn’t buy it, but it had been worth the try.

Stiles shoved passed the group of girls that wouldn’t get out of his way. He kept marching towards the car when Lydia decided to question him.

“What’s up with you?” Lydia asked as she stopped Stiles from walking away.

“I feel defective,” Stiles answered, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” Lydia demanded in confusion?

“I had a doctor’s appointment last week,” Stiles answered. “I might be carrying.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Wait, you really think that?”

“The doctor does,” Stiles answered. “Enough to set up the tests.”

“What about your dad, does he know?” Lydia asked in concern.

“He doesn’t know yet—but he’ll have to if it comes back positive,” Stiles stated as he tried to focus on not having a panic attack.

“So,” Lydia paused, biting her lip briefly before asking, “Was it Derek?”

Stiles looked up at Lydia. “No,” he hesitantly lied. “No, you don’t know the guy.”

Lydia nodded, holding Stiles’ hand as she started to walk back to their car.

“Lyds, you’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Stiles asked as he pulled her back, stopping her from walking further into the drive-in.

“Sure, sure,” Lydia nodded. “Don’t worry about it, huh?”

Stiles faintly nodded, making his way back towards the car, releasing her hand. He bit at his nails, thoughts of telling Derek plaguing his mind. He wasn’t sure how Derek would react—he didn’t even know if Derek knew that he was a carrier or not. That conversation could end in disaster if Stiles didn’t plan it correctly. He shook his head, thinking about what would happen when his dad found out. He still had another appointment to verify it, and then he’d have to tell his father in order to have the child. He was going to be another teenage parent, with the whole town knowing that the Sheriff’s son wasn’t smart enough to avoid being knocked up by the town delinquent. A small part of Stiles hoped that Derek would see it through, maybe even be happy about it—despite the fact that they hadn’t really talked since their fight; since before the dance.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice suddenly interrupted Stiles’ thoughts.

Stiles whipped around, coming face to face with Derek. His footsteps stumbled backwards as Derek moved forward, their chests almost pressed together. He stared up at Derek in wonderment as his back hit the side of the car.

“I heard you’re carrying,” Derek stated as he stared back at Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes widened looking passed Derek to see Lydia standing there. He scowled at her. “Yeah, well, I guess good news travels fast and all, doesn’t it?” He noticed how she turned and glared at Jackson.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Derek asked as he put his hands in his jacket pockets, unsure what to do.

“What’s it to you?” Stiles asked back, hugging his jacket to his chest as he watched Derek.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, looking around at the small audience they were collecting. He took his hand out of his pocket, pulling Stiles away from the other cars to give them more privacy. “Are you really a carrier?”

Stiles huffed, looking down at Derek’s feet as he faintly nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

Derek released a deep sigh. “You should have told me—we could have done something different. Or we could have waited.”

Stiles didn’t respond, his focus completely on Derek’s shoes as he listened to him.

“Are you going to …” Derek didn’t finish his question, knowing that Stiles knew what he was asking—was he to keep it.

Stiles looked up at Derek. “Why?” He asked, wanting to know what Derek was going to do about it.

“I could … help you,” Derek answered.

“You’ve done enough, don’t you think?” Stiles replied, taking a small step back from Derek, slipping into the cold demeanor Beacon High knew him for.

“I don’t run away from my mistakes,” Derek countered, feeling the chill of Stiles’ indifference.

Stiles bit his tongue, holding back the flicker of hurt he felt pulling at his face. He released a faint, bitter laugh as he looked at Derek. “Don’t worry, alright? It’s someone else’s _mistake_.”

Derek took a step back, leaning his weight away from Stiles as he turned his head to look down at the ground. He shook his head, looking up at the drive-in screen. “Right,” he barely stated, more to himself than anyone else. He looked at Stiles, a dejected expression pulling at his features. “Thanks a lot,” he weakly uttered before turning his back on Stiles, walking away from him. He pushed passed Erica and Boyd who had started walking towards him.

“Any time,” Stiles called after Derek, trying to drive in the last nail to the coffin that was their relationship. He gave Erica and Boyd a lingering look before walking back to his car.

~*~

“What did you say to Derek?” Lydia demanded as she pulled Stiles aside at the lockers on Monday afternoon.

“Leave it alone, Lyds,” Stiles countered as he tried to leave her behind.

“No,” Lydia snapped as she brought Stiles back. “You listen to me,” she started, pointing a manicured fingernail at him. “Whatever you said to Derek was a misunderstanding or something. When Jackson told him about you and the baby, he said Derek looked happy. And that he asked Jackson if he was sure, and Jackson told him that you told me,” she paused, accepting Stiles glower of disapproval. “I know, I’m sorry—in my defense, I told Jackson not to say anything. It’s not my fault he ran over to Derek and then Derek ran over to you.”

Stiles huffed.

“But whatever happened—Stiles, I think Derek was willing to give it a shot,” Lydia explained.

“I told him it wasn’t his _mistake_ ,” Stiles lowly snapped at Lydia. He knew she heard all the things people were saying around the school. He knew that it was hopeless trying to squash out the rumors now. Rumors that the Sheriff’s kid was a carrier, and couldn’t tell who saddled him with a kid.

“You know, and I know, that that’s a lie,” Lydia retorted. “You haven’t had sex with anyone but Derek Hale, and that is a fact.”

Stiles turned to look away from Lydia. “He called it a mistake, alright? So I let him think that—I let him off the hook of having to care about a mistake.”

“You know Derek didn’t mean it like that,” Lydia replied.

Stiles nodded, knowing that Lydia was right. He knew Derek wasn’t good with his words—he always screwed up saying how he felt. He had always thought it was endearing, until he thought that maybe Derek really didn’t want anything to do with Stiles now that he was a carrier. A pregnant carrier.

“Are you going to Thunder Road?” Lydia asked.

“No,” Stiles answered, hugging his books to his chest. “My appointment’s today.”

Lydia nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” Stiles shook his head. “My dad is actually taking me.”

“You told him?” Lydia asked in astonishment.

“Yep, that was an interesting night,” Stiles answered with a soft chuckle. “But after all the yelling and crying, my dad just hugged me. Told me we’d figure it out, you know? It’s—it’s nice to have that reassurance.”

“Okay,” Lydia sighed, giving Stiles one last hug before running off.

Stiles grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Could you tell Derek … just make sure that he’s safe.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” she stated in reassurance as she kissed his cheek.

Stiles smiled as he watched her go. He ignored the group of girls that walked by him, hearing them snicker after looking at him. He released a deep sigh, hugging his books to his chest as he took his time down the walkway. He thought about everything—how sudden everything changed, how he was going to manage being a single parent, how his dad was going to deal with everyone criticizing his parenting. He sighed, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the cement. He looked up when he heard a car hood slam, catching sight of Derek working on his Camaro. He quickly dashed behind one of the pillars, closing his eyes as he tried to keep from crying. He broke Derek’s heart for selfish reasons, and he wished he could take it all back.

But he wasn’t about to go crying to him, he didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want guilt. He wanted love, but it felt like too much to ask from anyone, especially someone as kind and perfect as Derek.

~*~

Stiles was staring at his feet as he waited for the doctor to come into the room. He snuck a look at his dad, happy that he offered him a reassuring smile. “Thanks for coming,” he uttered.

“You know I wouldn’t let you do this by yourself,” the Sheriff stated, reaching a hand out to hold Stiles’. “We’re going to be okay, kiddo.”

Stiles weakly nodded, as tears welled in his eyes. “I messed up, dad.”

“It takes two to make a baby, Stiles,” the Sheriff replied as he stood, offering Stiles the tissue box.

“I was the idiot that told him it wasn’t his,” Stiles sobbed as he took a tissue, unsure how his father was going to react to hearing that.

“Oh boy,” the Sheriff muttered. “Stiles, you’ve going to give me a heart attack.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What did you tell Derek?”

Stiles stared up at his dad, his eyes widened in surprise. “I never—”

“I’m not blind, Stiles,” the Sheriff answered. “What did you tell him?”

“That it wasn’t his mistake,” Stiles explained. “He … he said he didn’t run away from his mistakes, so I told him …”

“You didn’t want him thinking you were having his child, because he said it was a mistake,” the Sheriff finished.

“Yeah,” Stiles uttered.

“I think you need to have a talk with Derek,” the Sheriff answered. “That boy was never good with his words. He used to turn fire engine red whenever I caught him staring at you.”

“How do you interpret ‘mistake’ differently?” Stiles defiantly questioned.

“He could have meant it as having a child was unplanned,” the Sheriff offered. “Meaning that it was a mistake to have a child too soon?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles weakly answered.

“Well, we’ll figure it out,” the Sheriff replied, brushing Stiles’ hair back off of his forehead.

~*~

Derek was irritable—he had been the entire time they were stuck in homeroom, waiting for the principal to announce that the seniors were officially free to enjoy the rest of the day. He needed to talk to Stiles, and the longer he had to deal with the others, the more annoyed he was becoming.

Stiles’ neighbor, Mabel, and her collective of bridge players, liked to gossip, and the gossip more often than not always reached his uncle, who then liked to hold it above Derek’s head. Derek heard how the Sheriff was bringing Stiles to his appointment—appointments for the baby, whose father abandoned him. He knew it was second hand gossip, but if there was a shred of truth to it, Derek had to talk to Stiles about the baby. He didn’t care if Stiles wasn’t sure whether he was the father or not. He wanted to give it a try—give _them_ a try.

Derek ignored Erica’s question about where he was going as he rushed out of the classroom the second Harris told them they were dismissed. He was scanning the hallways for a sign of Stiles’ auburn hair, wishing everyone would disperse more. He growled under his breath when he saw Lydia and Jackson sitting by the steps.

“Where is he?” Derek demanded from Jackson.

“Um,” Jackson tripped backwards, worried eyes flicking back and forth between Lydia and Derek. “I’m more afraid of her than I am of you,” he admitted as he gestured towards Lydia.

“I need to know where he is,” Derek snapped as he turned to look at Lydia.

“And why should I tell you? You broke his heart,” Lydia stated as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“He broke mine,” Derek retaliated. “But if he doesn’t care that I’m not the father, than I don’t either.”

Lydia’s eyebrows knitted tightly together as she pursed her lips. “Okay,” she uttered, putting her hand up to silence Jackson. “He was headed to the Ferris wheel with Scott. Something about cheering him up.”

Derek nodded, leaving both of them behind as he headed towards the field. He immediately headed for the Ferris wheel, seeing the small little carts gently coasting through the air. As he drew closer, he saw Scott and Stiles sharing a cart together, both of them laughing.

Stiles looked happy, the dark circles that had been around his eyes were gone. His feet were swaying back and forth as he looked out over the field, drawing in a deep breath.

Derek cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting Stiles’ name loud enough for him to hear. A faint smile caught his lips when Stiles looked down at him.

“What?” Stiles yelled back, leaning against the car of the cart.

“Should you be …” Derek grumbled to himself, not wanting to announce everything to the whole senior class. He ran forward, stuttering to a stop by the entrance to the Ferris wheel as he waited for Stiles and Scott to get off.

Stiles didn’t hesitate to walk passed Derek, intent on leaving him behind.

“Should you be doing all this stuff?” Derek asked as he followed Stiles.

“Why do you care?” Stiles countered.

Derek gently took Stiles’ hand, pulling him back from walking away. “I don’t care,” he stated. “Whether the baby is mine or not.”

Stiles slightly frowned, scanning Derek’s features.

“I never wanted to let you go, but if that’s something you want, that’s …” Derek sighed. “It’s okay, I’ll just need time to deal with it.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked in uncertainty.

“I should have went with you to your appointment the other day, not going to Thunder Road to make sure Scott didn’t die,” Derek explained. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Stiles weakly uttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay,” Derek hopefully sighed as he watched Stiles. “So, if you want to keep it, I’d really like to give it a try. I know it’s a few years early, but life happens that way.”

“It … it was a false alarm,” Stiles hoarsely stated, not wanting Derek to continue with his offer. “I’m not carrying.”

Derek’s eyebrows softened some. “Oh,” he uttered. “Um, well, if you aren’t seeing anyone else, or don’t plan to, or … whatever.” He took in a deep breath, trying to get his words straight—Stiles always managed to make him a bumbling idiot. “I’d like to give us another go.”

“If … if this is a line, I’m not biting,” Stiles finally managed to stated, eyes scanning Derek’s for a sign.

Derek took a step forward, his hands resting on Stiles’ arms as he pulled him close. “It’s not.” He reached a hand up, his thumb gently brushing against the curve of Stiles’ cheek. “It’s a bona fide offer.”

Stiles smiled, releasing a small giddy breath. “I swear … you’re the only person who looks at me like that.”

“I’m not going to stop,” Derek answered with a smile that mirrored Stiles’, pulling him in for a kiss.

~*~

Stiles was in a different world whenever Derek kissed him. It drove him insane the way Derek would roll his tongue. The way Derek bit down on Stiles’ bottom lip had him rocking his hips against Derek. His hands were twisting in the leather of Derek’s jacket, not wanting to let go of him as they practically stumbled across the carnival grounds.

Derek pressed Stiles up against a solid surface, wanting to make him feel just how much he had missed him. He held onto Stiles’ hip, his other arm offering a pillow between Stiles’ head and the cold metal of the surface behind them. He winced when a long bell chimed right next to their heads. He pulled away from Stiles’ mouth, glaring up at the obnoxious bell.

Stiles glared at Scott when he saw him holding the hammer necessary to ‘Test Your Strength’ on the attraction Derek had Stiles pressed up against. He didn’t buy Scott’s innocent shrug. He turned back to Derek, pulling him back in for another kiss. He didn’t care if they were making a scene, word would more than likely spread around town that the Sheriff’s son was caught kissing the nice Hale boy at the carnival on high school grounds.

It didn’t matter, he’d hear all about it from Mabel tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.
> 
> [Send](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/ask) me any prompts you think you'd like to have me write!


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